Tumgik
#I haven't entirely abandoned them!
cloudwhisper23 · 11 months
Note
I've been wondering, do you have any ocs (other than fnaf ocs)? I've never seen you talk about them, do you have an orignal story that involves them? If so, do you have a favourite oc? I'd love to hear about them :0 (If you don't have any ocs, feel free to ignore this, I just assumed so because of the post you recently reblogged, haha TTwTT)
I do have a bunch of other ocs outside of fnaf! I'm just so deep in fnaf brainrot right now that I've probably only ever mentioned my other ocs like once or twice ever on this blog, but rest assured, they do exist
Currently I have three original stories in the making; each with their own set of wonderful characters. I have a somewhat dystopian story that has two main characters named Hunter and Trixx. Hunter is basically an assassin, and she only does it in order to protect her younger brother. Her reputation keeps them safe and all that. Trixx is really good at reading people. Or rather, he got good at reading people after his family was betrayed, leaving him to assume his entire family is dead. Despite the betrayals he's had in the past, Trixx is very reliable to those he considers trustworthy. The story itself centralizes around Hunter's younger brother getting kidnapped. She and Trixx team up to rescue him.
The second big story I have involves a somewhat realistic scenario. It exists more to help me practice normal interactions, while also helping me practice my restraint (because Lord knows how bad I am at not killing off characters). It focuses on four main characters: Max, Dakota, Coraline, and Sam. Max is the legal guardian of Dakota and Caroline (twin sisters), and he finds Sam out in the rain one day and just brings him home. It's hard to explain in a more general post like this, but I might be able to find my old notes somewhere and just post them on Tumblr at some point. The main storyline is mostly Sam trying to figure out where he fits into the world, without the pressures his parents kept trying to place on him. Sam ran away from home and was homeless until Max and his family took him in.
The third story hasn't had much proper work done to it yet. It's a science-fiction sort of thing, with a mix of fantasy thrown in there. The main character is an alien from another planet just trying to learn more about the planet he landed on. Problem is, one of the species that lives there does not trust the idea of aliens (human parallel, since we never tend to like unexpected new things). He ends up spending time in the forest with nymphs, and this whole situation starts a war. The main ocs from this one are Peregrine and Amaya. Peregrine being the alien explorer who now needs to find a way home, and Amaya being the main guide who helps him survive his experiences on the unfamiliar planet.
I am very much one to pick favorites when it comes to characters, especially when creating a new story. I'd say Trixx, Sam, and Amaya are my favorites from the aforementioned stories above, so I'll try to go more in-depth about them.
Trixx is not actually named Trixx. He determined rather quickly after his older sister Kristen was kidnapped (and is now presumed dead), that knowing something that intimate is dangerous. Trixx is actually named James. He decided on the name Trixx as an alias, so that the main gang controlling the city wouldn't realize he was the same kid whose older sister was a member of a rebellion of sorts. He worked hard on his ability to pick up on tiny gestures and expressions people would make in conversation, learning to read people like open books. Trixx uses this skill in his chosen field, selling information and secrets to anyone interested in the information. He develops a fondness for Hunter when she starts using him consistently as a source for information, and the fact that she never tries to cheat him doesn't hurt either. Trixx is sometimes known to outright lie about information if he believes he's being manipulated or scammed, so people do their best to stay in his good graces. Even then, he knows how to read their body language, and he'll end up scraping information out of the people he's selling information to.
Sam is the younger of two children. His mother is a well-off dentist, and his father is a high-paid lawyer. His older sister Emma is a doctor, and his family expects him to follow in their footsteps. Sam does not know what he wants to do with his life. He's used to all these expectations, so he tries different activities. Sam learns to cook, draw, play the guitar, sing, act, and all sorts of different skills. None of these are things that his parents believe he should continue doing in a career, however. So, a few days after he turns 18, Sam packs up some of his things and runs away. He ends up on the streets, avoiding everyone he possibly can. His parents have reported him missing, and Sam does not want to be trapped into a life he doesn't want, so he hides, eventually making his way out of the city and finding his way somewhere else. After a run-in with a thief, Sam meets Max, who offers him a place to stay after covering for him with the police. Sam tries to leave several times before realizing that he's better off with Max and his sisters. They don't have high expectations from him, and he already helps them so much with his wide range of skills and knowledge. He doesn't realize it right away, but he's meant for a career in family life, which is why nothing seemed to click before.
Amaya is a water nymph. Her whole existence comes with a multitude of expectations. Amaya's species reproduces asexually, meaning she's essentially a little copy of her mother. Her mother trained her to hone her various abilities, and now Amaya is expected to balance human relations along with all of her usual responsibilities in the village. She makes rain fall, calling thunderstorms on occasion, and sometimes she's called in on request to manipulate the weather for certain days of the year. Her priorities as a water nymph mean that she cannot travel very far. Little nymph villages are sprinkled all over the planet, and if she leaves to explore, it means all the expectations are fully placed on her mother. So, until Peregrine arrives, Amaya has not experienced the world at all. Of course, when the humans find out that they're harboring an alien, all their peace agreements go out the window, and suddenly Amaya is on her own, stuck with adventuring, despite knowing nothing about it.
3 notes · View notes
anomalouscorvid · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yea i'm combining today and yesterday's cringetober prompts. behold, lesbians in ms paint
it occurred to me that, visually, bastet and tally fit an angel and demon theme - although, in terms of personality/position in life, it's more vice versa. which wasn't actually originally intended at all but anyway i think i could lean into that more
23 notes · View notes
icewindandboringhorror · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
I’m always paranoid of my tumblr being deleted or malfunctioning or something like that someday, so here’s other places to find me/follow me, just in case lol
~ instagram - https://www.instagram.com/lucalicatte/
~ main youtube - https://www.youtube.com/c/LucaLiCatte
~ games/sims youtube - https://www.youtube.com/@cloudycatte
~ facebook page (I rarely use this because I hate facebook but.. it at least allows text posts better than instagram does, so idk maybe I’d use it more if tumblr went away? lol) - https://www.facebook.com/cloudycatteart/
~ Other Links (stuff I don’t use often/isn’t Main enough to list here, like twitter, neopets, other tumblr sideblogs, youtube channels, etc.) are here - http://icewindandboringhorror.tumblr.com/otherlinks )
#An updated version of this since some of the links on the old one are no longer the same lol#I might make a website website one day (not with a custom domain since I'm not paying for that/dont have the money lol#but like a 'my name.weebly.com type thing lol) but I haven't had the time recently. If I ever get around to it I'll update the post and#reblog that version. ANYWAY.. I just like to have one of these written out to reblog every once in a while. During the once ever few months#when poeple are like 'tumblr is failing again! it wont survive!' which has happened like 80 times but I'm still always like :0c what if!#also love the ms paint art done with a mouse ghhj#ANYWAY.. also if you want to see the stinky game I made that's not actually related to my own worldbuilding really (why I have never#posted anything about it publilcy because it's like.. how do I talk about it lol) I have my itch.io linked in the 'other links' page#as well as my General Projects blog. which talks about all the ongoing and upcoming projects I want to do that are#actually set in my world and can give you previews of some of the things I'm working on. Currently resuming my Game after abandoning it#basically for the entire pandemic and a little before that - as mentioned before - so that's OUgh.. in terms of A Lot Of Work#Especially since while kind of 'revamping and updating' I want to add a few features which are mostly easy but every once in a while#I don't understand something and it's like....... hGGhh...... Ironically despite Blogging I just hate talking to people in public open foru#.. I love privacy and security lol.. and I always feel that ONE day I am going to have a question that has not already been asked on a foru#somewhere and I am going to have to post myself and.. no.. I shan't even imagine it.. It's not even really social anxiety it's just like..#efficiency.. instead of wating like days to get an accurate response and resolve the problem with the general public I would rather just ha#e a one time 30min conversation with an expert and resolve it quickly. PLUS then I also only interact with One stranger instead of Many Of#Them lol.. any 6+ yrs of experience Ren'py experts hmu so I can pay you like $50 to have a single 45min conversation#with me over an insanely simple question and then never talk to you again until a year later when I have a second question. hhjb#ANYWAY.. I still really don't like instagram or it's layout and I never understood how it works like.. if I should be tagging photos or wha#or how you really use it and I just... euGH... stimky.. but it is one of the most popular so I feel obligated to link it. I wish facebook w#sn't such a nasty poo poo because I do actually like the variety of posts you can make and how Pages on facebook operate. In the scense of#it being similar to tumblr that you can make a VARIETy of styles of post. not just Only Post Photos or Only Short Text or Only Video which#is still like.. how the funk does sutff like that even get popular lol.. the Limited nature.. hewwo.. but alas.. and NO way I'm touching#fucking Threads please do not make an account on there and don't let your friends do it and don't let that shit catch on lol.#BUT YEahg... links...... just in case.. i hope tumblr stays aroundin it's current format forever though lol..#I'm pretty sure even facebook doesn't have audio posts. or tags the way this does. or CHRONOLOGICAL FEED. custom html for pages.. aaaaa
13 notes · View notes
cluescorner · 1 year
Text
Vibes from Legend of the Red Dragon so far
Hollyberry and Pitaya Dragon: Rivals /pos
Wildberry and Pitaya Dragon: Rivals /neg
14 notes · View notes
byanyan · 3 months
Text
byan in their fledgling verse being more depressed than ever because they feel even more abandoned now than they did in life. byan being angrier than ever because somehow, their life has become even more unfair and they feel like a stupid, worthless kid again, left to fend for themself and figure everything out on their own. again.
this manifesting some days in low energy and them struggling to bother leaving whatever hole in the wall they've crawled into, often sleeping through most if not the entire night. a suicidal urge to step out into the sunlight, but they're physically incapable of bringing themself to do it, to put themself out of their misery. a temptation to let themself get hit by a car just to fucking feel something. hunting around bars and clubs in order to feed on those who are drunk or high so they don't have to spend the night sober.
other times, it manifesting in increased volatility and destruction. they're faster to snap or resort to violence than ever before, many nights spent breaking things, destroying property, and beating anyone who gets in their way. the fights they get into for "fun" are more brutal, get taken farther than they ever used to, sometimes resulting in someone dead at their hands accidentally, still not knowing their new strength and thus not having proper control over it. being more prone to frenzy, but it being as easily triggered by desperate rage as by hunger.
byan being a fucking mess, isolated and furious and not knowing what to fucking do, and concealing this as best they can from the few people they have in their life.
4 notes · View notes
reserwrekt · 6 months
Text
But what if I've felt like I'm too traumatized to have friends, practically since I was born?
4 notes · View notes
aftermathing · 11 months
Text
I'm in so much pain it's embarrassing. I'm going to look back on these memories of me writhing alone too afraid to sleep biting my knuckles crying about nothing and laugh.
#It's not nothing but it kind of breaks the rhythm and sound repetition to rephrase it as ptsd nightmares dunnit#Okay so the good thing is I am no longer emotionally constipated.#The bad thing is now I can cry and also I haven't felt joy and safety in forever 😐😐#You'd think work would distract me but no! Just sitting in barn staring at horses biting each other and thinking holy shit I'm depressed#I'm so broken that while I was crying last night I felt an urge to go to my parents' room and cry to them#Like holy shit what is wrong with me#No amount of possible comfort from my dad is worth the screaming and disgust from my mom#We had a 'talk' about my mental health aka me avoiding the subject entirely and them going yep you are fine and also you're disgusting#Shave your legs you're making everybody sick and that's why you have no friends#But I did bring up the possibility of me needing to see a psychiatrist#Because of you know the ptsd#But as always they were like 'you were at that school for three months cmon it couldn't have changed your life'#Woman. Sir. I was 12 my brain was still new and I was just gaining sentience#And as soon as I became my own person I get held to a chair and beaten up like in a fuckin gangster movie#Forced to get naked in a room with hateful little girls laughing at me for getting beat up#Who all think I'm a dangerous predator lesbian who's going to kidnap them despite being 12 and 4'8 and#those little girls talked about how they wish their hot stepbrothers would touch them#But I was the predator because I had short hair :(( ?????#It's always my fault for getting beaten up and my fault for people wanting me dead and being disgusted with my existence#I was beaten up because I was annoying I was s/a'd because I was ugly I was abandoned because I was and am repulsive#Man#Fuck the guy who said he would rescue me from this and didn't. I'm not just magically not being abused now that I don't talk to you anymore#In fact it's so much worse enduring abuse when you don't have any friends to talk with or escape to isn't it!!! That's weird huh!!!!!!
2 notes · View notes
plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
Text
It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2
Tumblr media
a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3
Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)
Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.
Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)
- He's a beast.
Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.
- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom
Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.
- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 
She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 
- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.
- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 
Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 
The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 
The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 
- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?
You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.
- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.
A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.
You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 
Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.
- Wear black tomorrow.
Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.
*** Perhaps you did die. 
Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.
You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 
The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 
This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 
Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.
You awake screaming.
***
In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 
Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 
As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.
 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.
It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 
- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.
- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 
- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 
The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 
Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 
Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 
- Shall we, my Lady? 
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 
He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.
It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.
The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.
- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?
Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 
- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 
- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?
Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 
- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.
Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.
They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 
- Train with me.
The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 
Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 
- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.
To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 
- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.
- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.
- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.
- You're trying to get under my skin.
Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.
- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.
He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.
- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...
- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.
Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.
- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.
The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 
His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 
So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 
Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 
The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 
Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.
You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 
He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?
The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.
You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 
Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 
He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 
Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.
Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 
The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 
- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.
- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.
This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.
Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 
Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 
- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.
The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.
- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 
That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 
The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.
The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 
Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 
His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.
And then his hips roll upwards. 
A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 
Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.
Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 
1K notes · View notes
thatfandomslut · 4 months
Text
Princess
Tumblr media
Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Trigger Warnings: homophobia, physical bullying that results in injury, fluffy ending
Frankly this isn't my favorite fic I've written but I have tried my very best.
Request:
HEYYY omggg can i request ANYTHING with regina pls i dont care what it is:3 thank you!!
Synopsis:
After someone hurts the reader, Regina will make sure everyone knows not to hurt her princess.
Mean Girls (2024) requests are open.
Regina George was the Queen Bee at North Shore High. She was confident, brilliant, and ambitious. Regina could bring the entire school to their knees if she wanted. Only one person rivaled Regina George in popularity, and that was the only person Regina had a soft spot for. (Y/n) (L/n) was proclaimed Regina's princess by none other than Regina herself. On her own, (Y/n) didn't feel special, but Regina ensured she knew she was. While Regina lived for the popularity, (Y/n) could care less, but it was nice not to get bullied by the jock branch of the school's social structure.
While Gretchen Wieners was Regina's right-hand woman, as she deemed herself to be, (Y/n) could always be found on Regina's side. Regina was someone who was motivated by words of affirmation and physical touch. So, while she was touching (Y/n) in some way, whether their knees were touching or her hand was placed delicately on (Y/n)'s thigh, she reveled in the compliments she received from her girlfriend. Nothing boosted Regina's ego more than the love of her life, her princess, flirting with her shamelessly at the lunch table, not caring if Gretchen, Cady, or Karen heard.
However, today (Y/n) wasn't at the lunch table, in her usual spot. She tended to have everything ready for Regina by the time she reached the cafeteria. This ensured a few minutes alone as the other Plastics were forced to wait in line while (Y/n) and Regina talked about whatever they wanted without the listening ears of the other girls. Regina's brows furrowed as she looked around and didn't see the girl still. "Maybe she's still in class," Gretchen offered, earning a glare from Regina who sent a message to (Y/n), wondering where she was. Perhaps Gretchen was right though. As time passed, Regina grew impatient and agitated over (Y/n)'s absence.
After all, Regina knew that (Y/n) was present that day. They had walked to their homeroom class and their shared first period together. Tapping her fingers on the table, she was becoming more restless. "I'm going to go find her," Regina stated, standing up to leave. The girls went to follow her, but Regina stopped them. She wanted to go alone, and she didn't need Gretchen's constant pestering during their search. Quite frankly, she was also slightly annoyed over the fact that (Y/n) hadn't answered her text message.
As she passed one of the stairwells, Regina heard sniffling causing her to take a step back to see if it was who she thought it was. "Princess," her voice echoed the area, and (Y/n) looked up. Regina's previous annoyance was now abandoned as she saw the puffy lip and bruising eye adorning her girlfriend's face. Making her way over, Regina took (Y/n)'s chin into her feeling delicately as she wiped away some of the driving blood under her busted lip. "Who did this?" Her voice sounded leveled and cold. (Y/n) wiped a tear from her good eye, nervous to touch her other one since it was still stinging. Noticing this, Regina brushed a gentle finger to help rid the girl of her tears.
(Y/n) was led to the bathroom as Regina cleaned her face up. Only (Y/n) was allowed to be exposed to how gentle she could be. "You still haven't answered me, princess," Regina whispered, examining her face, and searching to make sure there was nothing she missed. "You felt like they had the right to hurt you? I need to know so I can burn them to the ground." For someone who was threatening (Y/n)'s bully, she only sounded calm and caring towards the girl in front of her. (Y/n) knew deep down that she also wasn't going to keep it from Regina. She just didn't want to be a snitch or make things worse. But maybe things were already worse at this point. After all, Regina had the sweetest tone in her voice but the most dangerous fire (Y/n) had ever seen in her eyes.
(Y/n) swallowed thickly wincing slightly when she licked her lip. She had forgotten how swollen and sore it was. "Marianne Hayes," she told Regina quietly, feeling Regina's fingers intertwine with (Y/n)'s. Regina's brow rose, wanting to hear everything that had happened. "She said I was sinning, being with a girl as she walked by me in the hall. So, I told her to say it to my face. That's when she turned and punched me. She got another punch in before her friend pulled her off. She reminded them that I was your girlfriend. Marianne made sure to point out that I was defenseless without you before she left, too. Which I'm not! The punch just caught me off guard and… I don't know. She always says things like that to me." (Y/n) expressed, sighing softly as the bell rang. They were supposed to be going to class, but neither of them moved.
(Y/n)'s words were also a revelation to Regina. Nodding slowly, she listened intently. "What do you mean she always says things like that to you? Why didn't you tell me she was talking shit to you?" Regina questioned. The quirk in her brow never left her face as she stared at her girlfriend with care and worry.
"I guess I never felt like it was important to bring up." (Y/n) muttered, looking away. A clear indication she was lying. There was more, and Regina squeezed her hands comfortingly. (Y/n) could be honest with her. She'd always listen to anything and everything that she had to say. "Okay, I suppose I felt like… If I didn't handle this, she'd be right, That I was just your little dog who couldn't defend myself. I wanted to prove that, yes, I'm your girlfriend, and yes, I'm proud, but… I can also defend myself. When I finally had the opportunity, she punched me."
Regina kissed her forehead in understanding. "You are not my dog. You are so much more than whatever the fuck Marianne, of all people, thinks of you. I will make sure she burns to the ground. You are my girlfriend, princess, and I know that you think you need to do things on your own, but I'm here for you." Regina cupped (Y/n)'s cheek gently. For anyone else in the school, seeing Regina this caring and soft was strange. But for (Y/n), this was her girlfriend. She was always this soft with her. "Now, come on. We're going to my house and we are going to watch a dumb romcom." (Y/n) smiled at this, allowing Regina to lead her out of the school, thankful to spend the rest of the day cuddled up to the blonde with She's All That playing on her wide-screen TV.
1K notes · View notes
incorrectbatfam · 7 months
Note
Tim and stpeh’s top ten patrol fails
——— (10) ———
Tim and Steph: *chained together*
Two-Face: *monologues*
Tim: *picks the lock*
Steph, whispering: Free me first.
Tim: Why?
Steph: Just do it.
Tim: *frees her*
Steph: *sprints past Two-Face to the bathroom*
——— (9) ———
Steph: I'm closing in on the museum. Where are you?
Tim: ETA one minute.
Steph: Alright, I'm doing a quick perimeter check. Doesn't seem like there's much happening here.
Tim: Where are you? I don't see you. And this entire gallery looks deserted.
Steph: I've never heard anyone call a science museum a gallery.
Tim: Science? I'm at the modern art museum.
Steph: Red?
Tim: Yeah?
Steph: We're both at the wrong place, aren't we?
——— (8) ———
Tim and Steph: *tied to chairs*
Ivy: I gave the city ONE REASONABLE DEMAND and they—
Steph: *scoots her chair*
Ivy: —but all they cared about was—
Steph: *scoots her chair*
Ivy: So now I'm going to make them pay for—what are you doing?
Steph, biting an apple: ...
Tim: She gets snacky.
——— (7) ———
[on a stakeout]
Tim, stifling a yawn: What time is it?
Steph: Half past one. Still nothing on the drop site. If you need some shut eye you can tell me.
Tim: Nah, I'll just use my phone.
Steph: *peers over his shoulder*
Steph: You're reading an adopted by Batman AU?
Tim: ...I was hacked. Just right now.
——— (6) ———
Steph: I could use a little backup.
Tim, shooting his grapple: I'm on my way. How many are there?
Steph: Four, though I bet more are hiding.
Tim: In that case, we better get you out of there instead of wasting time.
Tim: *swings by*
Tim: Grab on.
Steph: *grabs his legs and pulls his pants down*
——— (5) ———
Tim: What should I call my next contingency plan?
Steph: Fuck if I know.
[later]
Barbara: Alright, Tim, let's review your plan for...
Barbara: *squints*
Barbara: Everybody leave. I want to talk to Tim alone.
——— (4) ———
Tim: I'm not so sure about my disguise.
Steph, dressed like the 1980s: It's an 80s-themed roller derby. No way you can mess that up.
Tim: *shows up dressed like the 1880s*
Steph: I stand corrected.
——— (3) ———
Steph: You need to put that computer down. Have a Batburger.
Tim: No. I've almost got it. And don't try to distract me 'cause I've seen everything.
Steph, whispering under her breath: You haven't seen Superboy.
Kon: You called?
Tim: Oh for crying out loud.
——— (2) ———
Tim: *driving the Batmobile*
Steph: Hey, what does this button do?
Tim: NO DON'T THAT—
Steph: *hits the button*
Tim: *gets ejected*
——— (1) ———
Steph: Another successful patrol, if I say so myself.
Tim: All in a night's work.
Bruce: Where's Damian?
Tim: Huh?
Bruce: You were supposed to watch him.
Steph: Pfft, we knew that. He's right... uh...
Tim: We're just gonna—
Tim and Steph: *hop in the car and speed away*
——— (Honorable mention) ———
Steph: No sign of Robin at the dog shelter either. Did you locate his tracker?
Tim: It's offline. Best case scenario he just disabled it, but...
Steph: Oh God, we are in so much trouble.
Tim: Any other ideas?
Steph: Nope. I'm gonna get a drink of water real quick.
Steph: *goes into a store*
Steph: *comes back out with Damian*
Steph: Guess who I found trying to buy a butterfly knife?
Tim: I'll update Batman.
Tim, on the phone: Hey B, guess what?
Damian: *snatches the phone*
Damian: They abandoned me in Crime Alley!
Bruce: Red Robin, Spoiler, you're cleaning the lockers when you get back.
Tim: No wait—
Damian: *hangs up*
1K notes · View notes
lordgrimoire · 3 months
Text
So, an Idea, or AU I had regarding the good ol DPxDC.
I’m not sure what sort of disaster Amity’s ghost problem would be classified as, but think of what would happen if the local EMS (Emergency Services like Fire Departments, Law Enforcement, Emergency Medical, etc.) pretty much started jumping over the Mayor from the get-go? What if hard proof of these hijinx, for a brief time, were able to get out of Amity?
Well the Governor would probably have someone take a look, and once nonsense is confirmed (especially of its weird nonsense that looks a little to close to supers) they send in the National Guard, at first to keep an eye on the situation.
Then comes the Ghost Investigation Ward, and things go from moderately worrying to “WTF” real quick. And things start looking less Small Town USA and more Stalins Town USSR, at the height of Stalins Purges.
Admittedly it’s not immediate, and during the time between being put on “Indefinite Alert” and actually being relived this unit (I’m thinking a Battalion Sized force so about 1,200 soldiers/guardsmen total) ends up befriending the locals, and much to the Mayor, and GIWs, frustration, Phantom, as well as Red Huntress.
This leads to a standoff, the GIW can really only do what they want because of the Governments permission for them to do so, but engaging National Guard, who had not been federalized, may cause an issue or two. So they bring up the issue with someone who they think will back them up, their new boss Lex Luthor.
Now Lex isn’t a fool, but he figures out how the Justice League isn’t being called is due to a jammer the GIW set up and figures he can take a look around incognito like, or more accurately get trusted members of The Goonion, who he had Federally given approval to, to go take a look around.
When Alex gets the full story, and not just the GIWs original story but also updated info from the Doctors Fenton, who are now VERY worried, because they were wrong about Ghosts in more ways than they originally thought they may have been. Suffice to say, when Lex manages to get a copy of "The History of The Infinite Realms" and finds that Krypton's Afterlife is GONE, as in they did something similar to what the GIW is planning, he starts hitting the "Abort" Button with fury. Only to be told "Too late we're underway, we're going through a tunnel, what? What?" And now Lex decides Enough is Enough. Lex does two things, first he sends the GO order for the National Guard Battalion in Amity Park, then he starts trying to get a hold of the Justice League because "Listen I know you dislike me but I am willing to drop it all if you HELP WITH THIS BS THAT I JUST INHERITED!" Meanwhile back in Amity Things go from 0 to 100 faster than an Flash, that being the National Guard heard "GO" and immediatly started blasting. The Townfolks: Confused The Ghosts: Confused Team Phantom: Confused and Afraid The Ghost Hunters who are now studying Ghost Culture and the like: Very Confused and sorta getting Arrested. The GIW: Full of Bullet Holes, Screaming, and On Fire Meanwhile, The National Guard are waiting around two hours later with Phantom for any "Federal" News to come through: So the New President decided the Anti-Ecto Acts are BS, unfortunately they haven't been overturned yet so we're all most likely going to be marked as traitors. Mind if we hide out somewhere our bosses can't find us? Also the Justice League never actually knew any of the BS we've been going through, GIW Had some Jammer set up.
Phantom, Tired of all the damage and killing the GIW has caused in Amity Park: I'll try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do if the League shows up.
TLDR: Amity Park during it's entire run has a Battalion of US National Guard camped out in the outskirts/abandoned parts of town and they figure out most of the situation regarding Phantom not being the Villain Mayor Masters and the GIW Claim him to be. Following this logic they turned around and at the first opportunity attacked the GIW and pushed them out of Amity Park.
812 notes · View notes
billysgun · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
forgiveness
billy the kid x cowgirl!reader..pt2 of loyal |requested!|billy finds you after you ran from the gang, and falls apart in your arms|
Tumblr media
the dimly lit cabin warmed your bare feet as your nightgown tickled your ankles, hand running down to your bloated belly, a tiny bump only you'd notice.
you're in arizona territory. the trail was hard with throwing up the little food you had and protecting yourself and your horse from thieves and murderers.
you've been here before, the abandoned cabin way out from civilization, a one-in-a-million find.
so how did he find it?
you should have known. the heavy thumps of a horse you prayed would pass you, and the running to your door with frantic knocking.
you crept toward it, already knowing it was him from his newly stolen horse tied next to yours through the window. you took a breath and then opened it.
his eyes were red and swollen, tears rimming the edges. he flew towards you into a back-breaking hug, and your body melted as his scent enveloped you.
"I thought you were goin' to clear your head- I didn't know. I'm sorry I'm so sorry" he babbled into your hair, your gown wetting at the shoulder from his tears, but you didn't want them.
you didn't want his tears, his apologies, and certainly not his presence
"billy stop-" you whispered, but he shook his head as he faced you, hands still wrapped around your frozen body
"no, I went 2 weeks without knowing if you were alive." he stays adamant. your hands slowly push his off of you as his touch is too much to process, your hands find your stomach to try and calm you but his eyes follow and his shoulders relax at the sight of you showing
"billy, I'm not with them anymore." you reference the gang, trying to find any way on why this wouldn't work.
he said it wouldn't. he didn't choose this but you're the one pregnant, so, obviously you did, right? you haven't forgiven him.
"I'm not either. I'm not doing that anymore" he picks up your hands
"we can do this. we can get a cabin like this or a ranch. raise our child together" he talks like it's so simple. just forgive and forget. he's ready now, so what's the issue?
you stare at him dumbfounded. yes, you know maybe that entire last argument was a little reactive and reckless, he did just find out that second. but you found out that day, too. and the last thing you needed to hear was how he didn't want it.
"billy...why?" you whispered, head too full of different emotions of wanting to hug him, slap him, and cry. you end up doing the last thing as tears softly fall down your cheek and he drops your hands slowly
"...what?"
"why are you just saying this now?"
"because before I was scared. I didn't want you to get hurt and I didn't want some outlaw father raisin' our child."
"but I'm not just an outlaw. and I'm not a cowboy. I'm here, and I want this baby" he whispers sincerely, teary eyes never breaking with yours
it was honest, and it was real. and how the trail is 2 weeks travel, and you only got here late last night, he would've had to leave hours after you did.
"please, love. I'm so sorry" his thumb brushed your tears before hugging you gently
"ok." it was a small sob, but it was all that billy needed. he scooped you up and took you to bed where you both laid. recovering your love as your child grew.
Tumblr media
an: you guys really wanted a part 2..so here it is! I hope you guys enjoyed it <3 ilysm!! THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH 💞
792 notes · View notes
sv5hive · 2 months
Text
'cause when you know, you know | cl16
pairing(s): charles leclerc x fem!reader
content warning(s): mentions of drinking
word count: 708
note: i haven't posted anything in so long i hope you didn't forget me 🫣🫣
masterlist!
"this is who i was talking about! charles leclerc, you know, the racing driver i mentioned?"
reluctantly, he looked up from the drink in his hands to introduce himself to you. in all honesty, the first half of the season had been tougher on him than usual and he just wanted to be left alone.
that plan was derailed the moment his eyes landed on you.
as he took you in he failed to notice your outstretched hand, waiting for his.
idiot.
it wasn't his fault you looked like an angel in that white dress which seemed to hug your body perfectly, your skin glowing in the warm sunset and eyes twinkling much like the fairy lights illuminating the rooftop. it's almost as if a switch was flicked in him and all the fatigue left his body at the sight of you.
he was definitely in trouble.
"nice to meet you. i hope he hasn't told you too many stories about me." was all he was able to get out while still in a daze.
"nice to meet you too. don't worry, he's only told me the good ones!"
you even had the voice of an angel.
the conversation flowed easily with the steady stream of drinks from the bar. at some point near the beginning of your conversation, your mutual friend had abandoned you, leaving the both of you to lean against the wall in a secluded corner. neither of you minded though, as you spent hours learning almost everything about each other from your careers and families to your favourite dishes and childhood pets. somehow, you had managed to ignore everyone else at the party and stay by each others side in that corner the entire time. you looked around you only to find out you two were the last ones left up on the quiet roof. not that it mattered; you could've spent lifetimes talking to charles, shoulders pushed together, hands almost touching but jumping apart whenever they got too close, just talking about whatever came to mind.
the sun had long since dipped below the horizon and the moon was now glimmering in the waves. charles took the opportunity to admire you in his slightly drunken state before he lost the little confidence he had suddenly gained.
a cool breeze had come with nightfall and danced through your hair as you gazed at the sea through lidded eyes. the moon reflected on your face like a spotlight, magnifying your beauty to him. it felt like the universe was giving him a sign, screaming at him to not let you slip away. even if he wanted to ignore the universe, he couldn't. not when he had already felt himself falling the second he saw you and lost all common sense. a permanent, dopey smile rested on your mouth while you nursed the last remainders of your drink. whether you were smiling because of him or the several drinks you had he didn't know, but he certainly hoped it was the former (it was).
he had just met you a few hours ago but in that instant he knew this would be the story he would tell your all your friends and families over and over again until they could repeat it from memory. he could see it all so clearly.
they would ask how he knew you were the one and he would recount this exact moment, where you weren't even really paying him any attention and instead opting to stare out into the endless sea. they wouldn't understand but when they did and they wondered if they've found the one, he would be there to tell them that if you really have to ask yourself, then they aren't the one. because when you know, you know.
"what are you thinking about?" you had realised the silence had stretched on for much longer than what felt normal.
"hmm?"
despite charles drinking several glasses of liquid courage, he still couldn't form a proper sentence around you.
"i said, what are you thinking about? you look very, concentrated."
"nothing, don't worry."
"whatever you say."
he studied your features once more before shaking his head and smiling to himself.
"come on, it's late. let me walk you back."
540 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 3 months
Text
run to you | lee chan
Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k
notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3
Tumblr media
Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"
"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"
Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"
Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.
"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"
"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"
Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"
"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."
"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"
He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."
He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.
All he could think about is you.
Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.
Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.
The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.
He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.
Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.
The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.
"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."
He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.
"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"
You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.
"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.
He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.
"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.
You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."
Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."
You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."
His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"
His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.
"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.
"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."
His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.
Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.
"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.
He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.
"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."
You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.
"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.
The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.
You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.
As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.
The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.
He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.
"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.
You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.
"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."
He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.
He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.
It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.
He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.
"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."
The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.
"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"
"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.
"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.
"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."
The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.
Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"
"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"
Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.
His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.
But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.
Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.
When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.
"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."
"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."
"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.
You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."
Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.
"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."
Tumblr media
another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭
taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom
643 notes · View notes
Text
one of the critiques I saw about the PJO show was that we lost Annabeth in the first two episodes. She was supposed to show Percy around, explain the camp and how claiming/parentage works, and just build up their friendship. But I'm here to play devils advocate for a minute and say that I'm glad they switched it to luke. In fact, I understand exactly why Rick chose to do it.
We're getting what, 8-9 episodes per season? Maybe 10-11 if we're lucky? (I haven't actually seen what they were contracted for so) There's a looooot of content to fit in to those episodes, and one of the bigger things we need to experience very quickly, is Luke and Percy's dynamic. We need to see how Luke sees the gods and camp. We need to see how both of them carry an anger at their father, and why they do. We need to see how Luke was at the end of the day, just a boy abandoned by someone who was supposed to love and protect him. And we need to see how Percy can see both sides of him because of their similarities and overwhelming differences. Accounting for pacing & what needs to be shown in the first 1.5 hours of the show, it makes much more sense for Percy to spend this time with Luke.
We're going to have the entire rest of the show to watch Annabeth, Percy, and Grover connect and bond. We're not going to have much time to see and understand Luke, who we NEED to understand for the ending of the series to make sense (and even the ending of the season). So, any moment they can take to deepen that understanding, they're going to.
I think it was a good choice by Rick, and with how hard he's fought for the public to accept and love Leah as Annabeth, I highly doubt he's diminishing her space in the story. I think he's solely picking and choosing small parts to change to make sure the plot has the biggest impact it can.
951 notes · View notes
kinardscoffee · 11 days
Text
Can we just talk about the fact that Buck has always gone above and beyond for everyone in his life?
And how having someone else be there for him is a huge fucking deal?
Buck has such a deep-seated fear of abandonment, and the show has made it so REAL, given his childhood, and i pray the writers put our boy back in therapy to address it. Clearly, the Buckley parents hardly showed affection towards Buck as a child, even to the extreme of cutting off an emotional connection to ultimately help them bury their grief over Daniel. And Buck could feel this. A tiny child who just wants to be loved "anyway" and has lived his entire life in fear that any future physical and emotional relationships he finds will always abandon him because it's literally all he knows.
Buck has always craved a connection to something. Whether it's with his sister, at jobs, with friends, with romantic partners... he approaches everything and everyone in his life like they're this brand new amazing piece of his charred. scattered puzzle.
And, still, everyone has either left him, made him feel like the problem or a burden, or told him he's not good enough.
And we know he values his family (both blood and found) above everything else around him.
But like, who does it for him?
I'm not saying the 118, Maddie, or past LIs haven't been there for him, but, at one point in time, they've all made him feel some type of way during their relationship with him. Whether it was completely accidental or not.
Yes, even Eddie, who called him exhausting and shut Buck out of his life when it came to the underground fighting. Even after Eddie left the 118 and was struggling with his PTSD. And I'm not saying Eddie is a dick for all that. He was having a bad time. I'm just saying he can't really understand Buck in that way.
And that's okay.
Eddie, along with everyone else in Buck's life, is there for him in their own special way that helps make Buck learn from past mistakes and become a better person.
But then he meets Tommy.
Someone who went above and beyond, putting both his job and his life on the line by flying Hen, Chim, Eddie and Buck out to search for a cruise ship in the middle of a hurricane.
And that has to impress the shit out of Buck. Which is why there is an immediate attraction and need to get to know this man. Buck feels drawn to him because maybe, just maybe, the pieces broken inside himself could ultimately match up to those within Tommy.
Buck can't stop thinking about Tommy because no one else he's ever dated has treated Buck with this amount of attention or makes him feel secure in the fact that his feelings matter.
And yeah, Tommy ended their first date early, and I know some people didn't appreciate that, but you also have to understand that Tommy has feelings too. We don't canonically know Tommy's story, but I'm confident he's broken inside by the same insecurities that Buck has.
So, Buck realizing that his actions on the date weren't right and deciding to put everything on the line to Tommy?
We aren't dealing with the same Buck from S6 who thought Natalia saw him because he died.
No.
Buck sees Evan. He sees himself and the life he's ready to live.
And finally, he's making himself a priority.
He's not basing this relationship on Tommy or what anyone else thinks. He's pursuing this relationship for himself and for the first time... it's his time.
And Tommy just keeps showing up for it.
He doesn't ridicule Buck on wanting to throw Chim a bachelor party that wasn't wanted. He stays as long as he can before getting called into work. And I'm willing to bet that the man didn't even eat anything because Buck said they had to wait for Chim.
And those looks!
The kicked puppy look that Buck gives Tommy says so much. There's a sadness that he failed at throwing a successful bachelor party, I mean, Chim didn't even show up. There's a sudden concern that the guy he likes is going to a fire that most likely is highly dangerous and large considering they called him in for it.
Tommy gives him a look that shows he understands all of the feelings that Buck is struggling with in that moment. And then he goes on to promise that he will try his best to make it to the wedding.
And you can tell that Buck doesn't believe that. Why would Tommy even consider coming back for Buck? Hell, maybe there wasn't even a fire. Maybe Tommy just created an easy out for an awkward situation.
But I like to believe that Tommy checked in with Buck periodically, and then when he found out that Chim was missing, his texts came in more frequently as his job would allow.
And im sure at one point, Buck told him that he didn't need to come. That he was off the hook because the wedding was at the hospital. No free food or chance of that dance.
Only, Tommy assures him he'll still be there.
And, holy shit, for the first time in Buck's life, someone has kept their word above all else.
Tommy shows up, dirty, exhausted, still in his uniform, hitching a ride on the firetruck or one of those ambulances parked outside, looking both concerned and apologetic.
But all Buck sees is the guy he's crazy about showing up all because Buck wanted him to.
And I just think that's really fucking huge.
341 notes · View notes